Where Connect 3 Connected
by just jay
Summary: The story of how Connect Three connected at Camp Rock. Rating for mild, and implied abuse. Might change with later chapters.
1. Where

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**_"Where Connect Three connected…"_**

**

* * *

Shane.**

"Shane." A woman's voice. "Shane, honey." His mother. "Wake up, babe."

His eyes opened. Shane Gray, fifteen. He was talented, and beautiful. Short black hair, the iris of his eye so dark they nearly matched the pupil.

"You're starting Camp Rock today, Shane. Did you forget?" She questioned.

Shane looked around, his bags, everything was packed already. He hadn't forgotten. He'd went the previous summer, and he looked forward to going this summer as well.

"No, mom, I didn't forget," he said, getting up.

His mother smiled, and grabbed a piece of paper. "Did you pack your toothbrush?"

"Yes."

They went through the list of essentials, and double checked to make sure Shane had everything he needed.

Shane and his mother joined Shane's brothers at the table. Shane had two brothers, Spencer, who was eleven, and Sammy, who was a year. Their father was in Iraq.

"Are you really leaving for camp?" questioned Spencer.

"Yeah, Spence, I am."

"Can I go?"

"You kind of have to be musically talented. You, my friend, have no talent with music. Stick to soccer." He didn't sound mean at all. He was simply giving advice. Spencer really did have no musical talent.

When their father leaves, Shane kind of feels it was his responsibility to step up as 'Dad.' His mother always sent him to some kind of camp for the summer.

Her brother worked there, he ran the camp. He let Shane camp for free, thankfully. Sometimes finance wasn't well for the Grays.

"By the time you come back, people will be begging me to join their teams," Spencer informed Shane.

"Glad to hear it," he replied. He looked at baby Sammy. "What about you, dude? How are you spending your summer?"

Sammy giggled, and said things in his language.

A knock on the door, and it opened. Shane's cousin, Morgan, who was sixteen, entered. "Hey, Auntie Sheila," she greeted. "Hey Shane. Spencer. Sammy!"

Sammy giggled.

"Ah, Morgan," Shane's mom, Sheila, greeted. "Glad you're here. Shane, we can go now. You ready sweetie?"

Shane put his spoon in his bowl. "Yup," he replied. He took his carryon bag, the last that wasn't loaded, and him and his mother proceeded to the car, driving to Camp Rock.

* * *

**Jason.**

Jason Sherwood was seventeen. He was awake, and going through everything in his bags, making sure he didn't leave anything behind. The last three times he went to Camp Rock, he always ended up leaving something behind.

Last year, it was his pillow.

The year before that, his Nub-Nub, a stuffed lamb that his sister gave him when he was a baby, he didn't sleep the whole summer.

The year before that, it was his socks.

This year, he wasn't going to forget anything. He was going to make sure of that.

His father entered the room. "You still have time to change your mind, Jason," he informed. His father, Lucas Sherwood, didn't quite approve of his son's wanting to go to Camp Rock. He didn't believe that Jason would get anywhere with music, even with the help of a camp.

"I'm not changing my mind, dad," Jason said, "I didn't last year, or the year before that, or the year before that. I'm not going to change it now."

"You're making a mistake, Jason," his father told him. "You'll never get anywhere. Doesn't matter how good you are, or how good you _think _you are. All that matters is your finance, and where you come from. You come from here, you're poor. You're going to stay here. You're wasting your money on this camp."

"It doesn't matter, it's my money," Jason said, standing up. Jason worked all year at the pizza joint, and didn't spend a dime. He had to provide his own way. His father wasn't doing it anymore, and his mother was poorer than his father. "And you're wrong. I'll get somewhere."

They heard the horn of a car, Jason's sister's car. She was giving him a ride. She was the only one that would. Jason would drive himself, but cars were not permitted on campus, for well, obvious reasons.

He grabbed his bags, threw them in his sister's trunk, and they took off. Jason felt bad for his younger sisters and his younger brother that had to stay home, and switch back and forth from mommy to daddy every week.

He buckled up, and they took off. "What's wrong, Jace?" she asked, five minutes down the road.

"Dad gave me the 'you're never going to get anywhere, so you mind as well stay home' bit again."

His sister shook her head. "You know dad. He just wants someone to stay home and take care of the younger's while he works. You'd be doing it for free. Now he has to hire someone. Don't ever let him stop you from chasing your dreams, Jace. Promise me that. Promise you'll have a good time here, too."

"I promise you, Catalina Catherine Sherwood, that I, Jason Elijah Sherwood, will do my best to have a good time at Camp Rock, and that I will never let my father get in my way of my dreams."

"Good boy**."**

* * *

**Nate.**

Loud noises and baby cries woke him up. Nathaniel Bruce Parker lived in a this madness of a home. Surrounding him was a bunch of little kids. Him, he was twelve, just old enough to get into the camp that he desperately wanted to go to.

"Get up, Nate," someone spat.

His eyes opened, and he sighed. He found the person yelling at him was his cousin, Wayne. Wayne was not a very nice person.

Nate's curly hair was a mess, but it was always a mess.

He got up, and went into the kitchen. His aunt and uncle were sitting at the table, smiling.

Neither worked, rather, they took in foster kids and accepted the check that came with the kid. They had five fosters in the home, with Nate, and Nate's three cousins.

Nate guessed five was their limit. They got money for Nate, too. His parents had died two months ago in an accident.

His brothers, Jamie and Kyle, got to live together, in peace at their grandparents house.

He didn't get to, though. He was forced to live with all these people, with no place, or time to mourn his parents, and being separated from his brothers.

"Ma'am, what are you so happy about?" He asked, miserably.

"We found this brochure, Nate," his uncle said, holding up the Camp Rock brochure. "Why didn't you tell us you wanted to go to this camp for the summer?"

"Because maybe I don't want to, sir," Nate said.

He'd been brought up right. He was always addressing women as 'ma'am' and men as 'sir.'

His aunt looked at him. "You're going. Bottom line," she said, strictly. "You can work on some music, make some friends, take your mind off Jamie, Kyle and your parents. We pulled some strings, and the state agreed to pay your commission."

"Your stuff is all packed," his uncle added.

"Yeah, the cab will be here any minute," his cousin said, angrily. Clearly, Wayne was jealous that Nate had talent, and got to leave, while he was stuck home all summer. "Jackass."

No movement.

"Get ready, idiot!" Wayne said, punching Nate in the face.

Nate stumbled, but didn't' fall down. He was much smaller than Wayne.

He went in his room, and started packing.

Nate was so angry that his grandparents didn't want him, but he was angrier at himself for not being good enough.

He was angry at his aunt and uncle for taking kids for money, and he hated them for having Wayne.

All of his clothes, toothbrush, and other things he needed fit in one bag, besides his guitar, that he had to carry otherwise.

"Nate!" He heard his aunt's voice. "The cab is here!"

He went downstairs. His uncle hesitantly handed him the cab fare sent from the state. "Bye, Nate, see you when you get back!" He heard Juliana say. She was one of the fosters.

He waved, sadly. His eye was already bruised. The cabbie helped him with his bag, and then they both got in. The cab driver already knew where Nate was going.

Nate inspected himself in the backseat. He was bruised everywhere, most of it from Wayne. He wasn't going to let this get to him. He was going to camp, and he wasn't going to think about his aunt or uncle, or Wayne as much as he could.

"You okay, kid?" the cab driver asked, looking at Nate through the rearview mirror.

Nate realized tears were coming out of his eyes and rolling down his numb cheeks.

He wiped them away. "Yes, sir, I'm fine."

The cab driver saw the lies, but he wasn't going to mention anything further. He didn't want to step out of his place. After all, he was just giving the boy a ride.

**

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**

At Camp Rock, Shane Arrives.

Shane and Sheila are sitting in the car. "Another summer for you here awaits, baby," she tells him. "You better write me letters," she said, smiling. They hug before getting out, so Shane wouldn't be totally embarrassed.

He goes in the trunk grabs one of his bags, and his guitar. His mother grabs his other bag. They go into this big cabin, and a man with an accent appears.

"Mr. Brown from tinsel town," his mother joked. "How have you been?"

"Excellent, Sheila," Brown replies. "Hello, Shane. Nice to see you again."

Shane smiles, "you, too, Uncle Brown."

* * *

****

Jason arrives.

"This is it," Catalina told him. "Another whole summer without my baby brother. How will I cope?"

"You'll manage," Jason smiled. "I'm only a phone call away, Catty, okay? If you ever need me, give me a call."

"I will. I'll call you even when I don't need you. That's how good of a sister I am, Jace." She smiled.

Jason smiled back. He hugged her, and she left. He sniffed the air, and fixed his guitar on his back. He grabbed his bag and went over to some friends that he saw.

* * *

****

Nate arrives.

The cabbie helped Nate with his bag, and his guitar. Nate handed the man the fare, but the man shook his head.

"You keep it, bud," he said, sympathetically. "Keep it for emergencies or something, okay?"

Nate nodded. Hey, he wasn't going to turn down money that was waved in his face. It was his.

"Have a good time here, okay?" the cab said.

"Okay…" Nate was slightly confused, but hey, take whatever niceness you can get.

He slung his guitar over his shoulder, and looked around. He saw people that he didn't know. He felt smaller than everyone else.

He took his other bag with his left hand and started over to the stage.

* * *

A woman was up there, talking about Final Jam. He found himself standing next to a tall kid, looked about fifteen, maybe sixteen. "Hey," he said to the younger boy. "I'm Shane. Gray," he added his last name for some reason.

"Nate Parker," Nate said. His voice hadn't been quite developed yet.

"You play guitar, Nate Parker?" Shane asked, noticing the guitar.

_No, genius, I just have a guitar for humping reasons, _Nate thought. "Yes, sir," is what he said, though.

Shane smiled at being called 'sir.' "Cool, me, too."

Room assignments, Jason Sherwood was planted in Cabin 17, with two other guys. Shane Gray, assigned to Cabin 17. Little Nate Parker, Cabin 17.

Shane entered the cabin. "Hey," he said to the other guy that was already in there. "I'm Shane."

"Jason," he greeted.

They started to settle in, Shane taking out his guitar.

"Awesome guitar!" Jason exclaimed. "That's a Les Paul, right?"

"Yeah," Shane said. "You play?"

"Yeah! I've only got a Ibanez," Jason said, taking out his guitar. A black Ibanez, not bad at all, but nothing compared to the Les Paul.

The door opened. Nate Parker entered.

Jason's head went crooked as he stared. "Isn't there, like, an age thing for cabins?" he asked, "or at least a height thing?"

"No, nothing," Shane said, shrugging. "It's no big deal."

Nate put his bags on the bed that the boys hadn't occupied.

"Hey," Shane said, "Nate, right?"

Nate nodded.

"Cool," Shane smiled.

Nate was sitting on his bed, strumming his guitar with his open songbook in front of him. Shane and Jason were both eating.

Food hadn't really appealed to Nate much, recently. Water had been his only friend for the past few days, well, _of course_, Shane and Jason.

He played some chords, and thought of some lyrics.

__

Time for me to fly, time for me soar.

He thought his songs had no meaning. He sighed, and closed the book just as Jason and Shane entered.

"Hey, Nate, what are you doing?" Shane asked.

"Nothing important," Nate shrugged.

"Look!" Jason said, holding up a wooden mess. "I made a birdhouse." (So, the insanity begins!)

"Dude, it's awful," Shane said, honestly, shaking his head, but the way he said it, made it funny.

"It is pretty atrocious," Nate added.

Jason sighed, happily, "you guys are just jealous because I can make an awesome birdhouse."

"You're right," Shane said sarcastically, "you're absolutely right. Nate and me, we just…oh, we're so jealous that we can't make a birdhouse that looks like tree vomit."

"I know," Jason said, completely ignoring the sarcasm and criticism. He put the birdhouse under his bed.

**A/N:** This was supposed to be a one-shot, but it's too long, so now it's a two-shot.

Review? (:

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	2. Connect

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A/N: Thanks to **oogiethefroggie, BBONES, xxZanessazz, TonkaGirl1000, VFPC, AlwaysUnderTheInfluence,****pollypocket911 **and big thanks to **liddle.girl.lucy** for the reviews! Again with the sock rockage.

Also thanks to all who alerted, and favored. Of course, you rock, too. (:

Sorry for the wait.

**Disclaimer**: I DO NOT own 'Time For Me To Fly' Jonas Brothers own that. I don't own Nate, Shane, or Jason, either, unfortunately.

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"_I know," Jason said, completely ignoring the sarcasm and criticism. He put the birdhouse under his bed._

* * *

"Are you guys signing up for Final Jam?" Shane asked his roommates.

Jason sighed, "even if I did, I wouldn't know what to do. I'm not just going to go up and play guitar."

"You could," Shane insisted.

"And embarrass myself, purposely? No thanks. I think I do that enough _accidental_," he said, scrunching his eyes, nodding.

"What about you, Nate?"

Nate chuckled. "Me? Sign up for Final Jam? I think I would need some talent first."

"Don't be so pessimistic," Shane said, "You're good. Real good."

"Well, like Jason said, why go up just to play guitar? There's really no point."

"Then sing," Shane said. He took Nate's book off the bed.

"Hey!" Nate objected.

Shane, who was taller than Nate, held it up so he couldn't reach it, and looked at the words.

"_Time for me to fly Time for me to soar Time for me to open up my heart and knock on heavens doorTime for me to liveIt's time for me to singTime for me to lay down all my worries and I'll spread my wingsTime for me to fly_"

Shane lowered the book. "Dude," he said, "that's really good."

"It doesn't matter if the words are good, I can't sing it. And besides, that's all I can come up with," Nate said, shaking his head.

"Sing it," Shane said, handing him the book. "Sing it how you think it should sound."

"I don't-"

"Sing it, or I'll punch your head in," Shane threatened.

Nate rubbed his arm, remembering Wayne. Shane was bigger than Wayne. Nate did not want to get his head punched in.

He sang it.

Shane and Jason stared, baffled.

"I told you I suck!" Nate shouted.

"Are you kidding!?" Jason shouted, happily. "Dude, that was awesome. You have to sign up for Final Jam. You can win."

"I don't want to. I…I just, I can perform alone," he admitted.

Shane looked at Jason, and grinned, and looked back at Nate.

"We can't do Final Jam with just guitars," he said.

"We already covered that topic," Nate said.

"We can make a band!" Shane shouted. "Jason, you and me. We'll help you write verses for your chorus. Maybe even a bridge."

Nate looked at him. "Can _you _sing?"

Shane didn't say anything.

"You can!" He exclaimed.

Shane sang Nate's chorus. He could sing. Jason sang Nate's chorus. He would sound perfect doing a little backup.

"So, we're going to make a band, now?" Jason asked.

"Yeah," Shane said. "I'll do keyboards," he said, looking at the lyrics. "Jason, you do guitar. Nate, vocals."

"I don't think so," Nate shook his head.

"Come on, dude, it'll be fine," Shane insisted. "I'll sing, too. Jason can do backup vocals. We can win Final Jam. We can be, like, Camp Rock Legends."

"What are you, scared?" Jason asked.

"No…yeah," Nate wasn't going to lie.

"Why? It'll be cool. Don't you want your parents to come and see you perform?" Shane asked.

Nate looked up and glared as best he could. He couldn't help but think about them now. They would be routing for him. Jamie and Kyle probably would be too. "My parents?" Nate asked.

"Yeah," Shane said, "your parents. Sign up for Final Jam with us, we'll finish the song, work on the music and melody, and your parents can come and watch you. Have they heard you sing? You rip."

"They're…they…can't come," Nate said.

"Why not? They can't take one night to come and see you?"

"Not when they're dead!" Nate shouted, angrily.

Shane was speechless. He had no idea. But he did know how Nate felt. With his dad in Iraq, he was as good as dead, too. Jason, both his parents were alive, but his dad was a jackass. Sometimes, he'd, as horrible as it sounds, he'd prefer his father dead than hurting him.

"Well, they can see what an immature baby you're being," Jason piped up.

"I am not being a baby!" Nate retaliated.

"Not helping your case," Shane mumbled, not wanting to get a part in the conflict any further.

Nate groaned. Shane could tell he didn't want to talk about anything, but Jason wasn't going to let it slide. "How'd they die?" He asked, sounding like he didn't have a heart.

Nate sighed. "They were attacked by penguins," he said sarcastically. "I don't want to talk about it, Jason, oh, if that's okay with you, your Godly-ness," he rolled his eyes.

"Jason's not Godly," Shane mumbled, chuckling slightly.

"What?" Jason said. "I'm very Godly, thank you very much."

"Dude, you're not Godly," Shane shook his head.

"I am."

"Not. Maybe you're Godly of Cats. Or Barbie Dolls."

"Birds," Jason said.

"What?" Shane asked.

"I'm Bird Godly," he said. "Matter of facts."

Nate rolled his eyes. This was the perfect time to try to sneak out before they noticed.

He slowly backed up, but they looked his way, of course.

"Where are you going? We haven't finished talking about this," Jason said.

"Okay," Nate said, "you guys talk, I'll leave."

Jason rubbed his temples and sighed. "Dude, you have to do this." He said.

"Why?" Nate asked, bug eyed.

"Because I know something that nobody knows, and I'm not telling you unless you agree," Shane said, proud that he had something.

"But how do you know that I don't know it unless you tell me what you know?" Nate asked, smartly.

"Because I know I'm the only one that knows. You know my Uncle owns the place," he said, "I know something really important about Final Jam. If we sign up, and win it of course."

"Well, if it's really important, maybe you can't win because you're Uncle owns the place."

"I can't win solo," Shane admitted. "But I wouldn't be able to play solo anyways. Come on, Nate, agree. We'll work on your song with you, and we'll fix up the harmony. We can win this thing."

"Okay," Nate agreed, angrily. "I'm in. But you have to tell us what you know, now."

Shane wrinkled his nose. He went over to his things, ripped out a piece of notebook paper, and grabbed a pen.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked.

"Writing up a document," he shrugged. "It's like a commitment thing. We all have to sign it. You can't back out of the agreement." He wrote it, signed it and passed it around.

"Sign," he said.

Nate signed it, and Jason signed it. "Okay, now tell us. Before we go AWOL and rip up your silly document," Nate said.

"Chill," Shane said. "My uncle has people coming to Final Jam to judge. The winner scores a record deal."

"What? No way!" Jason said, disbelievingly.

"Yeah." Shane said. "Yeah, it's true. We could win…we're going to win. We just have to finish the song before Final Jam, and do a little rehearsing, make it perfect. If we win, we'll get _signed_."

Nate sighed. "Maybe I don't want to get signed," he said.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you signed the deed," Shane said, waving the paper in his face.

"It's not legal," Nate rebottled. "I don't have to-"

"Yeah you do," Shane cut him off. "Or I'll punch your head in."

_Gees, wuddup with the threats_? Nate thought. "Fine, fine," he said. "Don't touch me. Let's do it, quick." He was in a slight state of depression at this point. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to win. Because if he did…how would he live it out? His guardians wouldn't let him, that was for sure.

"Let's start right away!" Shane said. He took Nate's notebook. "Can I rip this out?" He asked. "Hang it on the wall?"

Nate shrugged. "Whatever tickles your fancy," he replied, sarcastically.

Shane smile, and hung the paper on the wall. Him and Jason both went over there numerous times to reread it, but Nate had the whole thing memorized. They were just going to write anything that popped into their heads and put everything together.

"What do you have so far, Jace?" Shane asked.

"Oh," Jason looked at his paper, "_But I feel a calling,_" he read, "_I will rise, I won't be falling._"

"There should be something before that," Shane said. "Because you started off with 'but'."

"_The earth can be a heavy ride, when the clouds are in your eyes_," Nate spoke up. "_But I feel a calling. I will rise, I won't be falling._" He quickly wrote it down.

"Brilliant," Jason said. "Do you have something, Shane?"

"Yeah," Shane admitted, and looked at his paper. "_I've been wasting my time, I've been losing my mind. I've been running races_."

Nate let the words run through his head before saying, "_Still don't know what I've been chasing. But my eyes still can see, bluer skies that wait for me. And I'm on my way. Time for me to fly, time for me to soar,_ we can pick up the chorus there."

"Sing it," Shane ordered.

"Um…" Nate hesitated at first, and looked at the words. He ran it by a few times in his head before going through the verse they just completed and the chorus.

"I like it," Shane admitted, "but, extend the 'way' and make it different chords. Do you know what I mean?"

"I think so," Nate said, and re-sang the 'way' part.

"Excellent. That'll be the first verse, right? Yeah. And then this," he tapped Nick's paper, and referred to what Nate and Jason had came up with, "can be second. Sing it."

Nate, again, ran the words through his head before actually singing it aloud. He wanted to get it right. He sang it. "There should be something else there, though. That's too short to be one verse."

He thought for a few more seconds. Nate was really getting into it, and the whole song writing thing really was kicking him. He enjoyed it, he loved coming up with words in his head the way he did.

"Got it," he smirked. "_And I'll escape the gravity, and I'll reach my own destiny. And I'll fly away._" He sang it. He didn't bother to run it through his head because he'd just plopped it onto the end of the second verse. "Then the chorus."

"We should put a bridge right there," Jason suggested. "Something like, _I will be, I will rise, _da, da, da, something skies."

Nate got into thought again. "The gates of heaven will open wide, I will be I will rise," he said.

Shane added, "There won't be a compromise."

"As I take to the open skies," Nate finished, nodding. "Did you get that down?" he asked Jason.

"Yeah, I got it, chill out," he said, writing it quickly.

Nate gathered all the papers, and rewrote everything onto one piece. He showed the lyrics to them. "Okay, well we have the lyrics, and the harmony," he said. "What about the beat? What should we do about the guitars and drums and keyboard? Can any of us play the drums?"

"We can program it on my keyboard," Shane suggested. "No problem. I've done it before. We just need to come up with chords and keys and drum patterns for the words, the way you sing them. You're really good, Nate."

"Thanks," he said sarcastically. He was still in denial.

Jason and Nate started to strum their guitars, and Shane immediately played with his keyboard. He wasn't all that good at it, to be perfectly honest.

"Switch with me," Nate sighed to Shane.

Shane shrugged and got up, and went over to his guitar. Nate warmed up by playing a random part of Rachmaninov's Concertos. He did it really well, too. Not one error. He messed around with keys, playing the song in his head. He wrote down the notes as he came up with them.

Nate was well with piano/keyboard, guitar, and drums. Those tickled his fancy, rocked his boat, floated his boat, whichever analogy you prefer. He was really good on them.

Jason's calling was the guitar. He practiced that more than any other instrument.

Shane also fancied the guitar, and the tambourine, and had recently started with the keyboard.

By the end of the day, they had all the words, the harmony, melody, keyboard notes, and guitar notes done. They were devoted to winning the Final Jam.

"We just need to add the drumbeat to the keyboard," Shane said.

"We need to come up with a drumbeat _to_ add to the keyboard," Jason said. "I don't know how to play the drums. Do you?"

"No," Shane admitted. They both looked at Nate.

He sighed. "I've had some experience," he admitted. "I mean, I'm not…"

"Well you're just full of surprises," Jason said sarcastically.

"Come on," Shane said, grabbing his wrist. "Jason, come too," he said. He dragged Nate to the Jam station, where an extra set of drums always sat. "Play."

Nate sighed and picked up the drumsticks, and started banging the drums in a way that would make Lars Ulrich jealous. Okay, so he wasn't _that_ good, but he seemed pretty dang close to it.

"Dude, you're like a regular Tommy Lee!" Jason exclaimed. "Where did you learn to play like that? You're like a music God."

"My brother Jamie had a drum set in our basement," Nate admitted. "He would always get frustrated because he sucked, and I would go down there and try to show him how to do it. I learned so I could help Jamie. Same with my brother Kyle for the keyboard."

"Dude, you could easily become a Camp Rock Legend."

"Camp Rock Legends," Nate repeated, "that should be the name of our band!" He said, excitedly.

Jason and Shane immediately agreed. They were going to be Camp Rock Legends.

* * *

**5 A/N Facts:**

1. I turned it into a THREE SHOT, because I got a bigger idea. (:

2. **Nick Jonas is GODLY**. Let's just say that now. Everyone say it with me (: Lmao. It's true, though. He is amazing. His voice gives me chills.

3. **Kevin **and** Joe** are pretty dang **GODLY**, too.

4. One more chapter, and this is over…unless I decide to add more again. (:

5. You should review.


	3. 3

**A/N:** Thanks to all who have reviewed! You guys make my day. Never would I have thought that I would get twenty one reviews for two horrid chapters! So big thanks to **VFPC, BBONES, Paupu, pollypocket911, -All-I-Want-Is-White-Tigers-, xxZanessaxx, liddle.girl.lucy., BIGROBismyBUDDY, silientbreeze, mrs.nickjonas221, Sammykinz, blazingfire03, **and **oogiethefroggie.**

I would also like to dedicate this chapter to **BIGROBismyBUDDY** because she got in trouble for laughing at my words.

Thanks to my faithful favorite-ers, and to all those who alert, and read without reviewing. You guys are cool, even if you don't show it. Haha. Lol. Just kidding. Not about the cool part, you're cool. Okay, on with the story before I cause more damage…

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Shane stared at Nate, and Jason. "Camp Rock Legends," he said, "we need to record the drumbeat."

"How?" Jason asked. "How can we do the drumbeat without the vocals and keys? Nate does both, in case you forgot."

"I didn't forget," Shane snapped. "I can substitute, just so he can get the gist of the beat. All the notes are written down, it shouldn't be problem. I should be able to do it."

Brown came in, turning the lights on. The boys had forgotten to do that when they entered. "Hey," he said, slightly shocked that they were in there. "What are you guys up to?"

"Hey, Uncle Brown," Shane greeted. "We're just figuring out what to do for the drumbeat for Final Jam. I can enter, right?" He double checked.

"Yeah," Brown nodded. "Doesn't matter, nobody knows that you're my nephew, not the judges. The whole judging is going to be fair and square by talent, not by connections."

"We're going to win, then," Jason informed. "We just need to get the drumbeat, Shane," he glared.

"What? I didn't do anything," Shane defended.

"Before this argument get's too heated, the Campfire Jam is about to start. You guys coming?"

"Sure," they agreed, and followed Brown to where the Campfire Jam was taking place. Onstage was a girl, singing a song that she wrote. Not too bad.

"Why don't you guys go up there and sing something?" Brown suggested.

"Sure!" Shane said.

"No!" Nate grabbed Shane's shoulder, so Shane couldn't walk towards the stage.

They all gave Nate confused looks. "Look," Nate said, "I don't want anyone to hear us until we perform at Final Jam. I kind of wanted to do this big mystery thing, you know? Like, be last," he looked at Brown, and shot him a hopeful look, "and then have the lights off, and then shine on us after we start singing and playing? Without anyone knowing who we are, and what our sound is?" Nate was stating it in a question.

"Um," Shane was slightly confused, but understood. "Yeah. Sure."

The kid did make sense. Nate was always a fan of surprises. Not for himself, though, for others. He loved surprising others.

"You're weird," Jason stated.

Nate shrugged. At least he _finally_ got something he wanted. That made him oober-happy.

--

Final Jam was in three days. They _still_ hadn't gotten the beat, let alone it programmed into Shane's keyboarding system.

"Guys," Nate said. They were all just hanging out in the cabin. Shane was throwing a baseball up in the air, and catching it, and Jason was texting his sister.

"What?" Jason said dully.

"We have to get the drumbeat," he insisted.

That's when Shane threw the ball up and failed to catch it. It smoked him in the face.

Nate and Jason started to crack up, of course, but Shane was pretty angry with himself. It hit right below his eye, and it was probably going to leave a bruise.

"It's not funny!" Shane yelled. "Guys, shut up, it hurts."

"Yeah. It hurts because you failed to catch the hard-one-pound ball and it pounded your head in," Jason said. "Did my work for me." he joked.

"Guys, seriously," Nate said, "it has to be perfect, and we have three days. That's it."

"What's up with you?" Shane asked. "You hated the idea a days ago, and now all of a sudden you want to be in final jam and win?" Shane asked. "That's odd, dude."

Nate shrugged. "I just got to thinking, if this ever happened, I might…I don't know, _be_ a somebody some day."

"It took you days to realize that?" Jason questioned.

"Yeah, well, it took me days because I had to think about what my aunt and uncle would think. They're my foster parents, you know," he informed.

"What does it matter? Wouldn't they be happy for you?" Shane asked.

Nate hesitated before sighing and answering. "No. They'd be happy for money. The only reason they took me was because they got their check from the state."

"That's horrible," Shane told him.

"Come on, let's just get the drumbeat. Then we can get it into they keyboard's system," he changed the subject.

Nate left the cabin, and Jason and Shane immediately followed. "Nate!" they shouted. They put two and two together.

They ran up to him and grabbed his arm. "Nate," Shane scolded. "Why did you show up to Camp with a black eye?"

"Yeah, and why do you always wear long sleeves and jeans in the middle of summer?" Jason piped.

Nate didn't answer, he simply struggled to get free from their grip. "Let me go!"

"No! Tell us," Jason yelled.

Shane whispered, trying to be more comforting. "Did they hit you?"

Nate avoided eye contact, but when his eyes met theirs, he just couldn't lie about it. "Sometimes. It was mostly my cousin…"

"You fight with your cousin a lot?" Jason asked.

Nate shook his head. "It's only fighting if the other person hits back. He's bigger than me…much bigger than me. And the one time I did hit him back my uncle got peeved to the end of tomorrow and…well, it didn't quite turn out in a good way."

"You shouldn't be living with people like that, Nate," Shane told him, shaking his head, easing his grip so it wouldn't cut off his circulation.

"I don't have a choice! It's either live with them, or go to an orphanage and be shuffled from family to family. I don't want to do that, Shane. It was hard enough losing my parents, and then being taken away from my brothers because my grandparents didn't want me around…I need a solid family. That's what they are to me. Anyways. Let me go. Let's go get the beat."

He pulled his hand and they followed him to the jam station. Nate got behind the drums and sat down with the drumsticks in his hands.

Jason plugged his guitar into the amplifier, and Shane turned the volume up on the keyboard. Shane and Jason did their parts, and Shane sang for the whole thing. They played it through the end with what they had.

"Got a beat in mind?" Jason asked Nate.

Nate hit the drums, a few times, and sang, "_Oh, oo, oh, oo, oh, yeah_." He looked at Jason. "Play with me."

They started at the same time, and then had Shane join a few seconds later. The keyboard was barely heard, but it was still heard nonetheless. They played through about two times, before Nate decided on the beat.

They had to do the beat without singing, or playing the keyboard, or the guitar, so luckily Nate was good at doing that. Shane recorded it, and then programmed it into the keyboard.

By the time they were finished…let's just say final jam was going to be in _two_ days.

They fell asleep _in_ the jam station.

--

Jason was first to wake up. He was quickly aware that he wasn't in their cabin. He looked at his watch. It was 12:34 pm. That is late. They missed breakfast, _two_ classes, _and_ lunch. "Guys!" He shouted.

They woke up and were also slightly confused before remembering that they'd worked on the song all night long.

"It's twelve thirty," Jason said. "We missed both of our classes."

"Uh-oh," Shane replied.

"Yeah," Jason agreed. "They probably think we went AWOL, or was stolen or something."

Nate bit his lip and they all rushed out of the jam station. People were rushing all around, and a girl who was the same age as Nate noticed them. She was in most of their classes with them.

She ran over to them and hugged each of them. "Where have you guys been?" she asked.

"Chill, Anna," Shane said softly. "We were working on our song and fell asleep in jam station."

"Everyone's looking for you!" She exclaimed. "Brown is worried sick. Everybody thought you were missing."

"Nobody checked jam station?" Jason asked.

"Never really crossed anyone's mind," she shrugged. "Go find Brown. I'll call off the search for everyone else."

The boys exchanged glances, thanked Anna, and headed off to locate Brown. "Hey, Uncle Brown!" Shane shouted when he spotted him.

Brown looked relieved, and went over to the boys and hugged Shane. "Where on earth were you?"

"We…Well, we were working on the song and lost track of time. We ended up falling asleep in jam station."

"You scared the whole bloody camp!"

"_Bloody_ camp?" Nate whispered. Shane nudged him.

"Don't do it again," Brown warned. "It's not your fault, I guess, but next time let someone know where you are, or where your going so if you fall asleep we'll know where to look."

They agreed. "I'm starving," Shane said. "Can we grab some leftovers?"

Brown rolled his eyes and told them yes, and they took off to the mess hall. They all ate, especially Nate who couldn't seem to stop eating.

"Do we have to make up the classes?" Jason asked Shane.

"I don't think so. I mean, there's two days until final jam, they were probably just messing around during classes anyways."

"We're so going to win," Jason grinned.

* * *

Yeah, not the best place to end it, but, I'm that much closer to finishing this which was _supposed_ to be a one-shot, which is now, going to be like, two, maybe even three more chapters. Lol. Sorry for the wait I suffered writers block recently. ): So sorry about the suckiness and quality. Review anyway? (:


	4. Connected

A/N: So, Jay does this thing where she gets writers block for one story, then forgets about it, then talks lousily in third person trying to explain herself when nobody really gives a damn.

**blazingfire03**, **xxTwilightHSMxx**, **VFPC**, **mrs**.**nickjonas221**, **-All-I-Want-Is-Whiter-Tigers-**, **Sammykinz**, **zhappygirl** thanks for reviewing!

* * *

_Deep down in their hearts, they'll always be the Camp Rock Legends_

* * *

The night of Final Jam arrived. Jason's sister showed up, as well as Shane's mother and brothers.

The lineup included older kids, around fifteen, sixteen, bands, solos, and then, of course, the orchestra in the sidelines that had to learn a few songs for some of the rising artists.

"I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared," Nate repeated.

"Nate, just shut up!" Shane ordered. "You'll be fine. Don't think about it so much. Just chill. Mellow like a fellow."

"Uh, yeah, don't try to rhyme," Nate said.

"You got it."

Shane turned to Jason. "Are you ready?"

"No."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that you _are_ ready, and that you _aren't_ going to mess up. We want to win, right?"

"Well, it's not _all_ about winning," Nate informed. "It's more of…doing our best at what we love and trying to succeed in it."

Blink.  
Stare.  
Laughter.

"Dude," Shane said through his laughing, "you sounded like a total chick."

Nate shrugged and peaked at the curtains and looked at the judges. He happened to glance in the audience and see his aunt, uncle and cousin Wayne. What were they doing there?

"Oh, snap."

"'Sup?"

"Um…"

Shane peaked out the curtains. "What? What's wrong? Why'd you get all pale all of a sudden?" Shane looked all around the audience members. "Your aunt and uncle are here, ain't they?"

Nate nodded.

"Just chill. It'll be okay."

"Why would they come? They can't stand me…this is madness."

"Nate. Don't you dare flake out on us now! Do you understand how long and hard we worked to get this far? To get this song ready? Yeah, pretty damn hard."

Jason watched from the sidelines.

"I can't sing in front of them!"

"If you can't sing in front of the people you live with, how the hell do you expect to sing in front of all these people?"

"I don't know! I didn't want to sing in the first place, in case you've forgotten, it was you who forced me into this stupid band."

"Lose the attitude, now," Shane sounded like his mother. Nate didn't know whether to accept or reject this. "Listen to me; this is too important for all of us for you to mess it up, now. Do you understand?"

Nate sighed. "Yeah."

"You got it?"

"Yeah, I got it, I got it. Dang."

* * *

The boys took their places on stage, all lights off everywhere. Shane started the keyboard, and the beat, and Jason started the guitar.

Nate waited for his cue, and started to sing. About seven seconds before he started to sing, the spotlights came on, and the whole crowd cheered. Most of the crowd was Camp Rockers, who had gotten to know the boys over the summer.

After they finished their setup, Brown came on stage and closed Final Jam, leading the judges over to a quiet place, where they could judge peacefully.

Brown stayed and overlooked the judges, being an 'advisor' as he called himself; rather, he was just nosy.

Shane, Jason, Nate, and all the other bands waited patiently backstage for the results. Their hearts were pounding in their chests, and their palms were sweaty.

Nate Parker was not feeling well at all. It was possibly nerves that were getting him on the edge, but he knew it wasn't that. He just couldn't keep focus, all of a sudden.

Brown ran on stage. "I hold in my hands, the envelope that will reveal who will get the deal."

The crowd cheered, and Brown looked over at all the campers with their fingers crossed.

He held the envelope up, and just as he was about to open it, he took one last glance at the campers.

Nate Parker was on the ground.

* * *

The ambulance was at the camp in the nick of time, and nobody had any idea what was going on. Shane's mother and Jason's sister both followed the ambulance to the hospital. Brown rode with Nate, and his 'family' followed as well.

They paced back and forth in the waiting room, waiting, waiting, waiting.

"Waiting is boring as hell," Jason pointed out.

"Jason," his sister, Catalina, scolded. "Shush. Have some respect."

"Sorry."

Shane glanced at his mother. She was holding his sleeping brother, Sammy, and his awake brother, Spencer, was wiggling his feet around in the chair. "Stop," Brown suggested. Brown was sitting next to him.

"This can't be happening," Shane said, grabbing a seat next to Brown. "What's taking so long?"

"They always take long, Shane," Nate's uncle said, "doctors just love to torture the families of patients. It's their ultimate high."

Shane sighed. This didn't seem like the family Nate had described. Then again, families like that usually do hide their anger and frustration problems. Showing them gives bigger reasons for people to think they're abusive. Then again, again, Nate said that it was Wayne who beat him up…then again again, again, it's the parents who shouldn't let that happen…

Doctor after doctor came out and approached other families, and it seemed like forever until a doctor went over to them.

"Nate is okay," he said. "He'll be okay. He has type one diabetes. That's by he's been so cranky lately, and why he's been eating like a moo."

Shane chuckled. Never in his life had he heard a doctor say 'eating like a moo' until this point in time.

"When can he go home? Or…back to camp?"

Camp ended a few days _after_ Final Jam night.

"Two days. During his hospital visit, we'll teach him about diabetes, and what to do, what to expect."

They all nodded and Brown, his aunt, uncle, Shane, and Jason followed the doctor to his room.

The doctor told them Nate had already been informed that he had diabetes. Nate was awake, and looked very alert and…actually a little happy? "Hey-loo!"

"Um. Sup."

"Why are you here?" he asked as soon as he noticed his aunt and uncle.

His aunt sighed. "We…we had to tell you…the house burned down because of your uncle's consistent smoking habits. Juliana, and all the other foster children were taken away from us. The state plans on putting you in a home as soon as you're out of camp."

* * *

The whole Camp Rock was back at the Jam Station, where they all performed their songs three days prior this moment.

Brown said, "now, now, we can _finally_ see who's the winner!"

He took the envelope, and opened it. The words that reflected on the note card were shocking, but that's because he had expected someone else to win. He used all the enthusiasm in the world. "Anna James!"

Anna worked hard, too. She deserved it, too.

But losing hurt Camp Rock Legends like a bitch. They were upset; obviously, they'd worked their asses off to lose.

Walking the walk of shame along with the other losers, Camp Rock Legends were stopped.

Some man…?, "Camp Rock Legends," he said, "I loved your performance. Did you write that song yourselves?"

"Yeah…"

"Brilliant. Brill_iant._" He pulled out his card. "I'd like to set up a meeting and get you boys a record deal."

Shane looked at Nate and Jason and grinned.

"Hey, Nate," Jason said, "ready to go home?"

* * *

It took a few months, but after they signed the contract, there was not much they could do. Camp Rock Legends were no more.

Connect 3 was the name of the band. Their sound had changed, their style had changed, the name. But, the income changed, too, and the fame, and the glory.

The only good thing out of changing was that they were still together.

Still connected by the camp.

Deep down in their hearts, they'll always be the Camp Rock Legends.

* * *

Jay has finished with this story.  
Possibly an epilogue later on.  
Please review with your thoughts, and thanks for reading (:


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